Little Talks
by Hihintayin Kita
Summary: Mostly dialogue. Sharon and Rusty have a little heart to heart.
1. Chapter 1

An idea popped up at 1:40am. Rusty and Sharon have a heart to heart.

After dinner, Sharon and Rusty decided to relax on the couch for a little bit. They enjoyed this companionable silence, with Sharon drinking another glass of wine and reading reports while Rusty read for school. Then, Rusty put down his book and looked over at Sharon.

"Sharon, do you think my mom really loved me?"

"I've no doubt that there's some love on your mother's part. She loved you to the best of her abilities."

"I...I hoped that my mother loved me enough to come back for me. I tried to be optimistic."

"And you had every right to be, Rusty."

"After everything, I just...I don't..." He struggled to voice out his feelings. He always kept them bottled up to himself. "I always wanted that normal life. I was on my own on the streets for a while, and every once in a while, I dreamt that I was actually _normal_. Like if my parents weren't messed up on drugs or selfish dicks."

"Language, Rusty."

"Sorry, Sharon, had to get that out there."

"I know that you feel conflicted sometimes, and I want you to know that you'll always find a supporting figure in me. You know that you can be normal with me."

"I know, Sharon. It's just..hard to talk. I want to, but even voicing this out..hurts."

"I understand. Everything happens in due time. When you're ready to talk, I'm all ears."

"Thanks, Sharon."

"No problem, Rusty."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I was working on another chapter to add to this, but I couldn't dismiss this idea for the story - I thought it was cute. Enjoy!

Sharon walked back to the kitchen, expecting to find Rusty already there and drinking coffee. It was the weekend, and while both of them enjoyed sleeping in a bit, Rusty still hadn't come out of his room. Slightly worried, she made her way towards his room.

She was about to knock on his door when he opened it.

"Whoa, Sharon," he looked more fatigued than usual. His face looked pale and washed out. His voice sounded raspy too, as if he was straining to talk.

"Are you okay, Rusty? You don't usually sleep in this late."

"I think," he made his way to the kitchen, "I'll be fine. Just need coffee and I —"

He never got a chance to finish his sentence as he covered his mouth and dashed to the bathroom. Sharon rushed after him, hearing him heave his stomach contents into the toilet.

"Alright, you are not fine, mister," she handed him a warm washcloth. Grabbing the thermometer from the medicine cabinet, she led him back to his room.

"Here," she handed him the thermometer, "hold it in your mouth for a minute."

He laid back down onto his bed while she felt his forehead and cheeks. He pulled the sheets up all the way to his chin as if he was freezing. Yet, after checking his temperature and face, he was burning.

"How does your throat feel?"

"It…hurts. Kind of."

"Hmm, looks like you've got the flu. You'll stay in bed and rest. I'll go make some soup for you."

He closed his eyes as soon as Sharon left the room. She left some medicine on the nightstand for him to take when she brought his soup. It wasn't until a few hours later that he woke up again, this time to knocks on his door.

"Rusty," Sharon peeked through the door, "you need to eat something, honey, it's been hours."

She came into the room with a small lap table containing a bowl of soup and crackers. Rusty sat up and grabbed a hold of the tray from Sharon. She quickly left the room, only to return with a bottle of Gatorade.

"I did a quick pick up at the grocery store. Eat. And don't forget to take your medicine."

Rusty looked at the food then back at Sharon. This was the first time that someone actually looked after him when he was sick. He usually popped a few Tylenol or drank some water. Actually having someone tending to him - this felt strange to him, but so comforting. He gave her a tired smile.

"Thank you, Sharon."

She brushed errant strands away from his forehead. "You're welcome, Rusty."

"Now you just focus on resting, okay? I'll check up on you later."

"I will, Sharon."

She smiled at him from the doorway, then headed back to her desk.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Alright after that last chapter I got motivated to keep this going. Inspiration: A friend's mom had advice for her when she went to a school of a different belief: just focus on your school work and succeed. You can believe in whatever you want, it doesn't have to be theirs if you're not into that.

It was Wednesday night when Rusty put the last of the dishes into the dishwasher while Sharon had her last glass for the night. It was an unspoken routine now - dinner, clean, then relax on the couch before bed time. Rusty had another novel to read, and Sharon looked over another case file, but there was another matter that was on his mind.

On Thursdays St. Joseph usually held a morning Mass for its students, faculty, and staff. He would follow along with the readings and the music, but he was lost when it came to the intricacies of the Catholic church. When Communion time he especially felt lost and left out, not being able to receive it along with his other friends. He knew that it wasn't about doing the same things as his friends; it was the feeling of being left out and seen as an outcast that bothered him.

"Hey, Sharon?" Rusty asked as he bookmarked his place in the novel.

"Mhmm, Rusty?"

"Tomorrow's Thursday, the day for, uh, morning Mass and I was just...Isn't it weird that I'm at a Catholic school, but I'm not Catholic? Like I go to those things only to sit there."

Sharon put down her case file on the coffee table to sit closer to Rusty.

"Rusty, I chose St. Joseph's because it's a good school with good teachers. I want you to have a good education," she placed her hand on his shoulder, "and while I know you have no experience or interest in Catholicism, it's not about the religion when it comes to your education."

"But sometimes it's so hard to try and...you know, blend in. They have all these practices and prayers they have me reading and I just...sometimes I'm not cool with that, do you get me?" Rusty's expression was wrought with frustration.

"I know that it's tough and at times you feel as though they're trying to push their faith onto you or you're being singled out; but when it comes right down to it, what you do at school is your _school_ work. Your classes, grades, chess - that's what I want you to worry about at school," she stressed. "You are free to believe in whatever it is you want to believe in, Rusty."

"Now, I'm not saying that I'm giving you free will to disobey and defy the sisters and priest," she gave him her sternest look. "I'm just saying that you just need to focus on what you have to do to pass and succeed."

"Oh, okay." he looked down at his hands on his lap.

"And your friends, Rusty," she continued, "they'll still be friends with you and talk to you even if you're not Catholic. If they don't, then those aren't what I'd consider friends."

Rusty felt better after listening to Sharon. There was a bubbling confidence in him now, not having to worry about not being Catholic. He wasn't going to let another person's belief worry his mind; he would absorb it all, but still keep true to himself.

"Thanks, Sharon," he grabbed his book, "I'm heading to bed now. Good night."

"Good night, Rusty. See you in the morning." She smiled at him as he left for his room.


	4. Chapter 4

Why was her head pounding so much? She never got migraines this bad before. Even trying to open her eyes was a struggle this morning. She felt the constant throbbing in her temples; sometimes it bothered her to the point where she wanted to cry in frustration or bang her head against the headboard. At least it was the weekend and she wasn't expected at the office. Allowing herself to sleep in a few minutes more, she wrapped herself in her comforter and drifted off to sleep once again.

However, when that little sleep in became several more hours of sleep, Rusty began to get a little worried. Busying himself, he made a small breakfast and watched some TV shows; he was sure Sharon would have woke up by now. Usually Sharon was an early riser like him, so he prepared her a cup of coffee and walked to her room.

He knocked first then slowly opened her door. "Sharon? You alright?"

She was still in bed, her head buried in her pillows. It didn't look like she was deep in sleep; quite the opposite. She looked like she was in pain, her face all scrunched up.

She mumbled something Rusty couldn't understand at first, then finally managed to say something loud enough.

"Headache," Sharon weakly mustered, "I'm sorry, Rusty."

"You don't need to apologize, Sharon," he moved to head back out to the kitchen, "I'll be back."

He went back to the kitchen to replace the cup of coffee with tea. With the kettle back on the stove, he walked to the bathroom to retrieve some Advil. To be on the safe side he grabbed a small washcloth on the way out.

When the water was ready he prepared Sharon a cup of tea. He also ran the washcloth under some warm water in case her headaches were that bad.

Gently knocking again, he opened her door. "Hey, Sharon, I made you some tea."

Sharon desperately tried to put up a strong front despite feeling like utter garbage. Finally managing to sit upright in her bed, she managed a weak smile for him. "Thank you, Rusty."

Handing her the warm mug, he also proffered some Advil. "Take these too,"

She really wouldn't know what she would do without Rusty. He was so helpful around the condo; and frankly if he weren't here, she probably would have stayed in bed, wasting the day away.

"Oh, Rusty," she smiled before taking another sip, "thank you so much."

"It's not that bad, right?" He also handed a warm washcloth.

"No, thankfully, it's not," she took her Advil and another sip of the tea.

"If you want I can make you something to eat," Rusty offered.

Sharon was touched by Rusty's consideration and niceness. It had been years since she had another helpful hand. Still feeling fatigued, but better than before, she moved to get up from her bed.

"How about I help you and we whip up something for us to eat, hmm?"

Rusty nodded, and started to head out and back to the kitchen, but not before making sure that Sharon was really alright.

"You sure you're good?"

"I'll be fine," she assured him, walking over to grab her robe, "don't worry, we'll have breakfast and then I'll still drop you off at your friend's house."

"Well, I'd be more okay with making sure you're alright first before I leave."

"I'll be fine," she repeated, "I'll be fine because you're here and you've done so much already."

Rusty shot her a smile before getting the bowls and pans out from the cupboards. He was sure that last statement was about helping with the headache; but he couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, his presence in Sharon's life affected her just as much as it did him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: This new chapter's inspiration came during an online chat for episode 6's "Boys Will Be Boys". The topic centered on reasons why Sharon and Jack weren't divorced and I was intrigued by the tricky business that is California's rules for divorce. Hope you all enjoy! PS - in my mind, this occurs right before Jack makes an appearance.

* * *

"So it was the husband all along?" Rusty inquired about Sharon's latest case as they cleaned up the dinner table.

"Sometimes Provenza gets it right," Sharon shrugged.

"I just don't understand how people can...kill. Just like that. Especially if you killed your ex-wife."

"You never know what goes on in some people's heads," she finished loading the dishwasher, "and sometimes I don't want to know."

Rusty wanted to ask Sharon about her own husband. Ever since he found those suits and she mentioned that she was still technically married yet separated, he wanted to learn a little more about her history. He figured it was fair since she knew so much about his past already.

Sharon saw the wheels turning in his head. He wanted to talk to her about something, but he wasn't going to outright tell her. She could tell from the look he gave her just before quickly turning away to clean the table - a distraction from his thoughts.

"Alright, mister, you've got a look on your face," she leaned on the countertop to look at Rusty, "what's up?"

"Look, I know you don't really like talking about it...him, and it's your own business," he moved over from the table to the kitchen, "it's just, if you know your husband's got stuff going on then why stay married?"

Sharon sighed and thought about the ways she could explain it to him. There were so many things - his alcoholism, gambling, absenteeism. She used to tell people it was for religious reasons, claiming it was the Catholic thing to do. She made a vow and she was going to uphold those vows. But she wasn't going to air all of her dirty laundry to every person who asked about her separation from her husband.

The financial predicaments she would have found herself in if they divorced also troubled her; with the debts he amassed when they were together, she can't imagine how bad it would be if they had to split that in a divorce proceeding.

Truth was she didn't enjoy rehashing her past failures with the one person that, at one time, was everything she wanted in a partner.

"Rusty," she crossed her arms in a defensive posture, "it's very...tricky. And complicated. But long story short, he was an alcoholic, a gambler, and an absent father. California laws also make it...difficult to do a clean, problematic-free divorce from him."

Now he was confused. What could be so problematic about divorcing someone that was clearly a bad influence? He thought divorces were the answer when someone wanted to wash their hands clean of the marital problems that plagued them.

"It's California law, Rusty. In a divorce, everything - assets, debts, and so on - is split 50/50. And we have children, so we can't just have a simple divorce." she looked away from Rusty in an effort to stave any irrational feelings over this topic, "I managed to disentangle myself from the financial troubles and it was just a very draining time for me and my kids - emotionally and physically. I have no intention of going back down that road ever again."

"There's also the fact that he is the father of my children. Despite the fact that he wasn't always around for the kids, I'm not going to hold them back from him. They're older now and able to make their own decisions regarding their relationship with their father."

Rusty was stunned. He never knew about that California divorces. But this insight into Sharon's past really opened up perception of her. Despite all the crap her husband did, she was still able to break away before she got roped into something worse. She brought up her kids, sent them to college, and still managed to give them a tie of some sorts to their Dad. She would shield her kids from the destructive behavior, but she wouldn't deprive them of a relationship with him. That alone spoke volumes to Rusty.

"I'm...so sorry, Sharon," he looked away, slightly ashamed for prying.

"Don't be," she managed a weak smile, "You work with the cards you're dealt with in life, Rusty. It has been a long time, but things have been quiet now. Cordial, you might even say."

"I can't believe you managed to bring up two kids by yourself as well as dealing with an addict as a husband."

"It was tough for a while - but I did what I had to do."

It was almost bedtime for Rusty, so she finished cleaning up the kitchen and turned off the lights. "Off to bed now, Rusty."

"One day, Sharon, please. One day can I stay up a little later? It's the summer!"

"Those days are called Fridays, Rusty."

"Aw, c'mon," his pleas were met with her signature Raydor glare.

"Fine, fine, I'm going to sleep," he made his way to his room, "good night, Sharon!"

"Night, Rusty!" She chuckled as she headed towards her own bedroom.


End file.
